


The Christmas Elf and the Winter Wizard

by pir8grl



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: All the Holiday Fluffy Goodness, Christmas Fluff, F/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pir8grl/pseuds/pir8grl
Summary: Being a Legend of Christmas, brought on by my being possessed of both an old VHS set of classic holiday specials and an overactive imagination. Merry Christmas to all!
Relationships: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	The Christmas Elf and the Winter Wizard

The Winter Wizard sat on his ice crystal throne in the middle of his ice crystal palace atop the towering peak of…ice crystal. The palace was immaculate. Everywhere the Wizard looked was pure white snow and silvery clear ice. It was perfect. Everything was neat and tidy and above all--quiet. There was no chatter or noise to disturb his reading. It was far too cold for birds--noisy, irritating things--and the white-furred forest creatures that lived this high up the mountain went about their business in silence. (They’d heard stories about how the Wizard came by that rug in his throne room…)

The Wizard sighed in contentment and turned the page of his book in wonderful silence. The very best thing of all about his palace? No Elves. No holly-jolly jingle-belled people laughing merrily and singing happy songs. The Wizard shuddered at the thought. He returned his attention to the ponderous tome on his lap. 

_Jingle jingle._

The Wizard’s head snapped up. His icy blue eyes narrowed. He was hearing things, surely. There hadn’t been any blasted Christmas Elves on his land since the last time he’d redecorated the western courtyard. With frozen Elves. They made quite the statement, he thought. (The statement being: Keep Out.)

_Jingle jingle._

Irritated, the Wizard set aside his precious copy of Robertus Drakeous’s Grimoire of the Frozen Tundra. He scooped up a ball of dazzlingly white snow and packed it into a ball, then he breathed on it. A hazy, blue-tinged image formed in the snow. 

Well, now he saw where that annoying jingle bell sound was coming from--the polished golden bells on the irritatingly bright red velvet costume of a Christmas Elf. Striped red and green stockings, silly hat, those ridiculous shoes with the turned-up toes, and of course, a great bulging sack slung over her--yes, definitely _**her**_ \--shoulder. Braids of golden hair were tied with ribbons the color of fir trees. She was certainly prettier than the last few Elves who’d trespassed here. He decided she’d make an excellent addition to his sculpture collection. 

***

The Christmas Elf trudged her way up the side of the mountain, lugging her sack full of toys. Her bright blue eyes scanned the tree line warily. She did not sing. Or hum. Or whistle a merry tune. Sara was…not your usual sort of Christmas Elf. She was stubborn. And grumpy. And she had a mean right hook. She could hit a target with a snowball at one hundred paces. 

She’d taken on this assignment precisely because she _**was**_ different. If anyone could make their way over the mountain and down to the village, it was Sara. So far, she’d dodged arctic wolves and crossed a half-frozen river, and now she was in the domain of the Winter Wizard. She was cold and cranky and just wanted to get to the village and deliver her toys to the children. 

***

The Winter Wizard stepped out onto the path in front of the Elf in a swirl of snowflakes. His silver and blue velvet robes flared majestically in the breeze, then settled dramatically around him. (It was one of his better entrances, and he knew it.) The Elf merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. He noticed that she carried a walking staff--not unheard of for someone crossing the mountains on foot, but it looked suspiciously like a branch broken from one of his enchanted trees. 

“You’re trespassing, little Elf,” he drawled in an icy cold tone.

And now the raised eyebrow was joined by a smirk. “You wanna catch me, Winter? You better be one heck of a wizard.”

“First, that’s Mister Wizard to you, Elf. Second, did you happen to notice all those lovely Elf-cicles in my courtyard? I think they’re plenty of proof that I’m one he--” Oh, that eyebrow crept even higher, if such a thing was possible. “--eck of a wizard.” Now, why had he done that? He certainly didn’t care what any namby-pamby Christmas Elf thought of him. Except…this one wasn’t like any Christmas Elf he’d ever met. 

Among other things, she was quite lovely. Or would be, if she wasn’t scowling at him. Leonard had a keen eye for details. He noticed a rip in the knee of one of her stockings and a few curls that had tumbled loose to frame her face. It gave her delightfully roguish air.

“And you’ll make an exquisite addition to my throne room,” he added, finally, after taking great pains to make his tone as icy as ever. 

“I saw what you did to my friends,” she snorted, “but I have a job to do so you can just get out of my way or I’ll make you.”

The Wizard threw back his head and laughed. He couldn’t help it. This tiny, golden-haired girl, easily a head shorter than him, making such a pugnacious declaration?

***

She let the bag slip from her shoulder and twirled her staff menacingly. 

It was mostly a cover. She knew all about the Winter Wizard, of course. Who didn’t? But the stories failed to mention how handsome he was. Tall. Icy blue eyes. Close cropped salt and pepper hair that looked silvery with frost. It didn’t make him look old…it made him look…strong. Powerful. Maybe charging headlong into his domain hadn’t been her best idea. 

He smirked at her, then flicked a hand absently. A hail of wickedly pointed icicles detached themselves from tree branches and sailed through the air, right towards Sara. She whirled her staff and shattered them. 

Then the Wizard turned to a nearby snow bank and made a series of complicated gestures with his hands. A small cyclone of snow solidified into a snowman that began to shamble towards Sara. She eyed it calmly, then set down her staff. Sara untied the top of her sack and rummaged for a moment, still keeping her eye on the snowman, which was decidedly _**not**_ of the jolly persuasion. 

Finally, she pulled out a lovely teapot made of white china painted with delicate holly leaves and berries. A little more rummaging produced a matching mug. The Wizard watched, bemused, as she poured herself a steaming cup of some fragrant beverage and took a sip. With a satisfied nod she refilled the cup and flung its contents at his snowman….which promptly melted into a pile of mush. 

“Is that…hot chocolate?” he asked, suddenly more interested in the magical teapot than his melted creation. 

Sara shrugged at him with a saucy grin. “It is if you want it to be.”

“With mini marshmallows?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager. 

“Now that all depends. Have you been naughty or nice?”

“I’m just defending my privacy,” the Wizard said rather plaintively. It had been simply _**ages**_ since he’d had hot chocolate with mini marshmallows. “Elves to the west of me and villagers to the east! What’s an evil Winter Wizard to do?”

Sara cocked her head to one side, studying him carefully. “I’m not so sure about the evil part.”

“I freeze things that annoy me.”

“Well, yeah,” Sara conceded, “but you also make beautiful frost pictures on the window panes and lots of lovely snow for sledding and frozen ponds for skating.”

“Well…yes, I suppose I do.” 

“So if you could maybe stop being such an ass, and let me get on with my job, I could see my way clear to fix you a nice cup of hot chocolate.”

“Tsk, tsk! Such language from a Christmas Elf!”

Her eyes narrowed and the Wizard was abruptly reminded that this one wasn’t quite the usual sort of Elf. Still, she found a second mug in her bag and poured him a lovely cup of cocoa, just the way he liked it. He gratefully wrapped his cold fingers around the warm mug and inhaled the sweet-scented steam. He raised the cup to his mouth, then stopped abruptly.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked suspiciously.

Sara shrugged. “Christmas Elf. It’s in the job description.”

“Of course,” he muttered in as disinterested a voice as he could manage. He took a sip of his chocolate, but it somehow didn’t seem as sweet as he recalled it should be.

Sara took a healthy swig from her own mug which smelled slightly of peppermint. “Why are you such a jerk to everyone?” she asked candidly.

“Like I said, I value my privacy.”

“All we Elves have ever done is cross your stupid mountain to bring toys to the village children. What’s your problem with making a bunch of little kids happy?”

“Because those little kids grow up to be mean adults! That’s what! You know that rug in my throne room that everyone thinks they know so much about? That was my favorite pet polar bear! You’ll see the villagers who did that down in the eastern courtyard. They made splendid, if rather unattractive ice sculptures.”

“That sucks,” Sara agreed.

“And don’t get me started on the reindeer! Do you know what the most fashionable household accessory is in that village? A reindeer head mounted on the wall!”

“Here.” Sara passed him her mug. He took a sip and discovered that her drink contained something considerably stronger than just milk and chocolate. He downed it in one gulp. She refilled it and took a healthy gulp before handing it back to him.

“Do you know why the village children grow up to be such creeps? It’s because their village is full of stupid laws that say kids can’t run and play and have fun. Can you imagine what it would be like if the kids got to be happy? And grow up into normal happy villagers? Anyway…that’s what I’m trying to do. Just bring a little bit of Christmas cheer to that village.”

“Good luck,” the Wizard snorted. “You’re gonna need it.”

“I make my own luck,” she told him seriously. Then she sighed and packed away her teapot and mugs. She spied something in the bag and fished it out. “Here.”

The Wizard looked at the fluffy white toy she’d placed in his hands. It was a polar bear with a pert black nose and jointed arms and legs. “It looks just like him,” he murmured softly.

“I’m glad. Merry Christmas, Mister Wizard,” she said with a dazzling grin.

“Actually…here.” The Wizard set aside his bear for a moment and scooped up a handful of snow which he formed into a perfect snowball. It seemed to glow slightly in his hands. “Put that in your pocket,” he instructed.

“It’ll melt,” she said dubiously. 

“Wizard,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s magic snow. When you get yourself into trouble down in that village, just hold it in your hand and call my name.”

“Thanks…Mister Wizard…or can I call you Winter?”

“Actually…my real name is…um…Leonard.”

“Mine is Sara. And why do you think I’ll get in trouble?”

“Because I’ve met you.”

***

And so the years rolled by. Christmases came and went. Children grew up and had children of their own. And more importantly, they decided they didn‘t want to live in a gloomy, boring town. The village became a bright and happy place once more. Of course, it wasn’t always smooth skating. At first, the other Christmas Elves weren’t happy with Sara for sneaking out on her own to deliver toys to the village. And then there was the time the villagers chased her back up the mountain waving pitchforks and torches. (Yes, she’d been happy to use Leonard’s magic snowball that day!) 

But gradually the people in the village decided that white fur looked much better on the animals of the mountain than on their floors and in their wardrobes. And more Elves decided to venture out across the mountain to deliver toys--so many that Leonard had to organize caravans of reindeer and polar bears to pull sleds. Of course, by that time, Leonard had plenty of help. One crisp clear Christmas Eve, he and Sara stood together beneath the Christmas Star and plighted their troth. And if he found his castle a little less pristine and a lot more cozy--well, he was much too happy to complain.

So…did all this really happen, or is it just a Legend? I’ll leave that up to you to decide, dear reader.


End file.
